


No More Beans for Breakfast

by Larkawolfgirl



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Farting, Fluff and Humor, Humor, M/M, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-06 22:23:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12827364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Larkawolfgirl/pseuds/Larkawolfgirl
Summary: Gladio should have remembered that Noctis doesn't eat beans.





	No More Beans for Breakfast

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for Gladnoct week's day 1 prompt: size difference. Somehow that turned into silly domestic fluff about Noctis eating beans (yay for fluff! We need it)

Gladio turns at the sound of a yawn. There in the bedroom doorway is Noctis, clad in nothing but one of Gladio’s oversized sweatshirts. It’s deep violet, bringing out the richness of his eyes and skin, and falls somewhere on his thighs. Noctis is leaning against the doorframe, head tilted to display the expanse of his neck, hair still ruffled from sleep, and eyes disinterestedly sizing him up.

“What’s that gods awful smell?”

“Breakfast,” Gladio says proudly.

“I’m not eating whatever it is.”

Gladio frowns. “Hey, now. You don’t even know what it is.”

“What is it, then?”

“Pork and beans with ramen.”

Noctis makes a face. “Course it is. I’m not eating it.”

“And why’s that, picky prince?”

“Cause we’ve had ramen for an entire week straight. And you know I don’t eat beans.”

“Yeah, well then you take a crack at it.”

Noctis crosses his arms, causing the sweatshirt to ride up a bit further on his thighs. “Specs made me promise to never attempt to cook again after the peanut brittle incident.”

Gladio grimaces at the memory. It had been bad enough for Ignis to call him over to help with the cleanup. “Yeah, yeah. Fine, I’ll cook something different for lunch. But this is what we’re eating now, so suck it up.”

Noctis groans and flops down onto a highchair at the island. “Whatever.”

They eat in relative silence, Noctis looking like he might fall back asleep at any moment and Gladio taking special notice of how the prince didn’t seem to hate the beans as he claimed. He wasn’t puckering up his face or push them aside from the rest of his food as he tends to with vegetables. When he is finished, a faint smile even sits on his face.

Gladio grins. “See, it wasn’t so bad was it.”

Noctis grins back, but there is a flicker in his eyes that Gladio can’t read. “Not yet.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Noctis refuses to answer, but Gladio gets one about an hour later. Their entire apartment is filled with a foul smell. Gladio flops down on their bed, trying to press his face far enough into a pillow to cut out all smells aside from the laundry detergent. Unfortunately, it isn’t working. Noctis—the sadist—not only lays down beside him, but turns so that his backside is toward him. Matters are made even worse since he is still wearing nothing besides that damn sweatshirt. It’s a lazy day, and Gladio would totally be pouncing on him right now if it weren’t for that gods awful smell.

“Gaw!” he groans. “You win. No more beans. Ever.”

Noctis laughs in a load mocking tone. “Or ramen.”

“For two days.”

“Want me to shove my ass in your face? Cause I totally will.”

“No! Have mercy! Two weeks, I swear.”

Noctis shrugs. “We’ll see.”


End file.
